


pencils

by lonelylibrarian



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 22:06:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1957806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelylibrarian/pseuds/lonelylibrarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky and Steve on Steve's birthday. Titled pencils because I had no idea what else to call it oops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pencils

**Author's Note:**

> *disclaimer: i know very little about the time period they were living in and how it related to canon. so beware of historical and also probably medical inaccuracies. please message me if something is glaringly wrong. also i wrote this on my ipod while watching fireworks and trying to hide the screen from friends and family so there are definitely many errors. and its really late but whatever.

Steve wakes up to the feel of soft lips brushing against the back of his neck. He blinks blearily, slowly separating dreams from reality as Bucky continues to pepper kisses across his neck. Bucky gently moves him so Steve’s laying on his back, Bucky leaning over him with a smirk playing on his lips.

“Happy birthday,” He murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to Steve’s lips. Steve smiles against Bucky’s lips, reaching up to wrap his arms around Bucky’s neck.

“Yeah, turnin’ twenty two’s a real big deal.” Steve mutters sarcastically between breaths. He pulls Bucky back down against him, threading his fingers through Bucky’s hair and letting out a soft moan as Bucky slips his tongue into Steve’s mouth.

 

They spend the morning in bed, whispering sweet nothings and falling in and out of sleep. They’ve been doing this since they moved in together, since Steve turned nineteen and they had finally gotten up the courage to push their beds together and let themselves have what they’ve always wanted.

They wake up again just after noon, Steve yawning as Bucky sits up to stretch. Steve settles back down to try and go back to sleep, closing his eyes to block out the light coming through their thread bare curtains. These days they sleep with just a few thin blankets, too hot and muggy for anything else. Sometimes Steve’ll wake up shivering from a breeze thats managed to sneak it’s way through the window, and Bucky will just throw more blankets over him and pull him closer. But summer is usually a better time for Steve, keeps the colds at bay and enables him to go outside without worrying about catching pneumonia.

Bucky shoves his shoulder, “You gotta get up sometime.” Bucky leans backs against the wall, for lack of a headboard, and runs his hand through Steve’s sleep ruffled hair. Steve leans into the touch, letting his eyes flutter shut.

"C’mon." Bucky chides as he gets out of bed and all but drags Steve out with him. They walk the short distance from their room to the kitchen, constantly brushing against each other in the tiny space. Bucky lets his fingers linger against Steve’s waist as he passes him, the two working in synch to scrape together a meal. The first time they were alone and it was Steve’s birthday, Bucky had tried to make him something himself, wanting to surprise him. But it had ended in a burnt mess and a fowl smelling kitchen, so it then became custom for Steve to help him. And Steve didn’t mind, he liked having an excuse to bump into Bucky and be in close proximity to him, even while doing something as mundane as throwing together sandwiches on stale bread.

They sit down to eat at their tiny table, legs brushing together.

"Sorry I couldn’t get you a cake this year," 

Bucky knows Steve is about to protest, how it doesn’t matter and Bucky shouldn’t be worried because he’ll probably just get fat anyways. So he keeps talking so Steve doesn’t have a chance to interrupt.

"But I did get ya something else. It’s not much but well," Bucky pauses as he gets up and pulls a small box out of one of the kitchen cabinets. "It’s something." He finishes, unceremoniously throwing the box of pencils in front of Steve. They’re the real nice ones, the kind his art school has and he sometimes wishes he was able to take home. It had taken Bucky weeks of not going out and keeping extra cash in a carefully hidden jar.

"Buck, you didn’t have to-"

Bucky hushes him by leaning across the table and pressing a quick kiss against Steve’s lips with a laugh, “Doesn’t matter, I wanted to. They didn’t even cost me nothing.”

Steve raises an eyebrow at him, and Bucky knows he doesn’t believe him but he doesn’t say anymore on the subject.

"So you gonna draw me now or what?" Bucky asks, the same familiar smirk that’s starting to seem more like a smile, forming on his lips.

So that’s what Steve does, they end up back in their bedroom, lunch forgotten. Bucky’s lounging with his back presses against the wall while Steve sketches the sharp lines of his abs and the soft curves hips. He draws until his fingers ache, focusing on the striking details of Bucky. The way his eyes crinkle ever so slightly when he smiles, or the way he always licks his lips while he watches Steve draw. Eventually, it starts to darken outside and Steve’s yawns become more frequent and Bucky teases him about being lazy before pulling him against his chest and under the thin veil of blankets. He sets Steve’s sketchpad and pencils on the nightstand, not bothering to look at the drawings because he knows they’ll loo perfect. Bucky wraps his arms around Steve and wishes him one last happy birthday, who promptly tells him to shut up but Bucky can hear the smile in his voice. And Steve falls asleep the same way he woke up, with kisses.


End file.
